


If I only could make a deal with God

by elletromil, Kanarek13



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Orpheus & Eurydice Legend, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon Temporary Character Death, M/M, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 12:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19272970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/pseuds/Kanarek13
Summary: He's not even sure he wants to be a part of Kingsman anymore. The Knights might accept him now that he's saved the world from Valentine's madness, but there's only one position to fill. And he doesn't know how to feel about taking up Galahad’s mantle. Not sure how he feels about replacingHarry.The night after Harry has been killed by Valentine and Eggsy has saved the world from the madman, a familiar fox appears to him and leads him to the Underworld.If luck is on his side, Eggsy might just sway the God of Death into returning Harry's soul to the living.





	If I only could make a deal with God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kanarek13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/gifts).



> I am very happy to finally start revealing my stories for the Reverse Bang! Even if I might have bitten more than I can chew with 3 stories, I cannot regret doing so.
> 
> For this story, I've got the chance to work based on Kanarek13's fantastic artwork! I hope you all enjoy reading this :)
> 
> Before that though, I want to thank two people from the bottom of my heart. First, Britt for reading everything and helping me figure out stuff as I go along and encourage me to go back and do some editing. And second, Red for cheering me up for the past few months and listening to me moan and whine whenever I needed to. You two are amazing and the best. Thank you <3
> 
> Last note: The title of this fic comes from the song Running Up That Hill by Candy Says and Marc Canham. You should all give it a listen u.u

It’s the middle of the night and Eggsy is following a fox.

Not that it's something he’s in the habit of doing. In fact, it’s probably at the very top of the weirdest moments in his life. But then again, anything involving direct contact with a deity is usually pretty strange, so he figures he’s doing okay all things considered.

 _If_ the fox really is a god.

He could be wrong after all. Heck, he doesn’t even know why he’s so certain that the fox is Hermes.

Sure, he had been praying to his patron god at the shrine on the manor’s grounds when he had first noticed the fox, but that could have been a coincidence. Even if the fox had looked like it was waiting on him at the time.

To be honest, he would have dismissed it completely if it hadn’t been for his last encounter with a fox.

Maybe he should associate the animal with bad luck since that incident had led to his arrest and he had nearly been thrown in jail afterwards. That had definitely been the lowest point in his life. But instead, he sees it as the complete opposite.

After all, if it hadn't been for him hitting rock bottom, he would never have called the number at the back of his medal.

And without that, he would never have met Harry Hart and his life wouldn’t have taken a turn for the better.

Not that it is in any way perfect now.

He's saved the world sure, but it came at a horrible price. It doesn’t matter if all the people who got their heads exploded were arseholes. He still made the decision that they were expendable. That stopping Valentine mattered more. In a way, he’s not better than any of them.

Then there’s the fact that even if Merlin told him not to worry about it on their way back to HQ, he’s still not really part of Kingsman.

He's not even sure he wants to be. The Knights might accept him now but there's only one position to fill. And he doesn't know how to feel about taking up Galahad’s mantle. Not sure how he feels about replacing _Harry_.

Fuck, if it wasn’t for the bang of Valentine’s gun still ringing in his ears and how the still image of a cracked sky from his mentor's feed is the only thing he sees whenever he closes his eyes, he wouldn’t even believe that Harry’s _dead_.

It’s why he had been praying in the first place, hoping it would clear his mind enough that he could rest a bit.

And then, the fox had appeared to him and here he is, following after it through woods he’s certain hadn’t been that deep back during his training.

Maybe it’s because it’s so dark out there.

Or maybe it’s something else entirely.

He suspects the latter is probably right when he realises that the trees around him have given place to smooth rock walls. That the flat trail they had been on is now going on a low incline, inexorably leading deeper inside the Earth. That the light of the moon and stars has been replaced by the glow of torches.

He picks up the pace without meaning to, feeling utterly out of place. It's weird, because he should be used to it by now. After all, there's always some posh snob somewhere trying to glare him out of a room. Or some dickhead with delusion of power. He's never had any trouble ignoring them.

But this, this comes from _within_. The feeling seeps out from the very marrow of his bones.

He shouldn’t _be_ here.

But he trusts his god not to lead him astray. Not on purpose anyway.

If he is being brought here -- wherever _here_ is -- there is a reason. There must be.

He tries to remember what had been in his prayer earlier, but he can't quite recall.

Gratitude mostly, he thinks. Hermes has always protected him, never abandoned him. No matter where the road of his life took him -- athlete, thief, _spy_ \-- he’s always felt his presence.

Guidance too, probably. Should he really stay with Kingsman? Or should he go home to his Mum and baby sister instead? But that’s a decision he knows only he can make. Gods and Goddesses aren’t around to dictate their lives. They can influence them at most, but humans are still the masters of their own destinies.

Sorrow and guilt, definitely. Even if these feelings have nothing to do with his god, Eggsy cannot keep them to himself. He knows already that he’ll carry these regrets to the end of his days.

He should have apologized to Harry before he left for that cursed church. Should have said something.

 _Anything_.

It’s all so _unfair_ , but there’s nothing he can do about it. He could fight the whole world, he could fight time itself, it still wouldn’t bring Harry back.

His soul belongs in the Underworld now and Eggsy’s no one important enough that he could plead for an audience with Hades.

He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realise his surroundings have changed again until a voice rumbles all around him.

"Hermes, what brings you to the Underworld?”

In front of him, while he wasn’t paying attention, the fox has transformed into a man. Or a god rather. Eggsy can only look, transfixed, as Hermes bows down deep in front of Hades who is seated on his throne of stone and ice.

The god of the Underworld has been described many times. It's been said that he is serious, regal, severe. _Cold_ even. But as he stares at his proud features, Eggsy can only think about how misleading these descriptions all are.

Immutable. That's the word he would use if anyone ever asks.

He’s sure many would mistake it for heartlessness, but Eggsy doesn’t believe it. It would be hard to when Persephone looks at him with such open fondness from her seat next to him. Harder still when he can see the careful way Hades is gently rubbing a thumb over her knuckles over the armrest of her throne of roses and thorns.

If he seems cruel, it is only because he holds dominion over death. And death is a fact of existence very few mortals can accept serenely.

Eggsy himself would have probably been raving and ranting if he wasn’t so dumbfounded to be in the presence of deities.

Then, before Hermes can say a word, Hades finally notices him and Eggsy is caught in his timeless gaze. The weight of it is uncomfortable, but once their eyes meet, Eggsy finds that he cannot look away.

“Ah, of course. What else. Your heart is too soft Nephew." What should have been a rebuke sounds simply amused. As if it is a private joke they’ve shared time and time again.

There’s even the shadow of a smile curling at the corner of Hades’ lips or so Eggsy thinks. He blinks and it’s gone, if it was even there in the first place. But he gets no time to figure out if he really saw it or if it was a trick from the flickering light of the torches. Hermes, without a word, has just stepped behind him and is pushing him gently but firmly forward.

He wonders if he should bow, but Hades doesn’t let him reach a decision before addressing him.

“Why do you stand before me, mortal?”

Strangely enough, the term doesn’t feel at all condescending. It’s just… a fact. One Eggsy cannot argue with. He _is_ mortal after all. And it’s so not the point of why he is here anyway.

And yet, for a long moment, he can only stand in silence under his patient gaze, mind blank.

He hadn’t ask to be here. Never would have imagined in his wildest dreams that it was at all possible. In fact, if it wasn’t for how bloody _exhausted_ he feels, he would think he is sleeping right now.

But he isn’t and his god has answered prayers he hadn’t even dared to formulate. Praying meant hoping. And Eggsy knows better than most the bitter taste of disappointment when that hope gets crushed.

Still, clearly he was wrong in this instance. Hermes is giving him a chance. _Hades_ is doing the same. The least he can do is answer him. He’s pretty sure they already know why he’s here anyway.

“I’m here to ask for the safe return of the fallen warrior Harry Hart to the land of the living.”

He’s never spoken so formally before, but the words fall from his lips easily. Maybe it’s this place. Maybe it’s being in the presence of gods and goddesses.

Or maybe, it’s something else entirely. Maybe it’s taking part in a ritual so old that humanity has lost all memories of it.

But it doesn't matter what it is. Eggsy can’t stop now. Won’t stop. “I’m here to beg for his soul.”

Hades raises an eyebrow at him and Eggsy will have to thank Merlin when he returns to the manor. After months of dealing with the handler’s myriad of micro-and-not-so-micro expressions, he’s more than used to these kind of looks. It would take a lot more for him to be impressed.

Unfortunately, whatever confidence he has gained from standing his ground vanishes at Hades’ next question.

“And what claim do you have on his soul?”

“I- He- He’s my mentor and my friend,” he stammers lamely after a beat, even if it doesn’t really answer anything. Harry means so much more to him than these empty words. Harry had believed in him when he had been at his lowest. Had believed that Eggsy could still turn his life around. That he could make something of himself without having to change who he is at his core.

But it’s only a small part of why Eggsy had fallen for him.

“He is the man who holds my heart.” He smiles sadly, because of course, this is the moment he chooses to admit it to himself. As if Hades cares. He asked about Eggsy’s claim on Harry’s soul. Not how he feels about him. And Eggsy has done many things he’s not proud of, but he’s never lied to himself. He’s not about to start now. “I love Harry. But I have no claim on his soul, or any other part of him.”

“And yet, here you are, demanding his safe return among the living. Even when it goes against the laws that bind the mortal realms.”

Maybe that’s why Hades has been accused of not caring in the least. However, even if Eggsy winces at the blunt honesty, there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s the fool who started to hope that things would turn in his favor for once.

He takes a deep breath to apologize for wasting their time or whatever, but Persephone cuts him off before he has a chance.

“Husband…”

It’s a soft rebuttal and Eggsy is tempted to tell her not to bother. He doesn’t need her pity.

But then, Hades turns to her and this time, he’s _definitely_ smiling and sure, okay, yeah, he can understand why Persephone married the bloke if this is how he looks at her.

“Peace, my love.”

He brings her hand to his mouth and presses a reverent kiss against her fingers. It’s obvious that she is trying not to smile, but she loses the fight mere seconds later when Hades lowers their hands again without letting go, linking their fingers together instead.

“I did not say that I wouldn’t strike the same bargain with him than the one I did with all the ones who stood in his place previously. Only that I will not fulfill his demand for free.” He turns again to Eggsy, completely impassive again. Except, no, not really. There’s a… _kindness_ to him now. One that is barely comprehensible to his mortal sensibilities, but it’s _there_ nonetheless. “So speak, mortal. Atropos cut his thread already, his soul is rightfully mine. What would you offer me in exchange for giving it up?”

He opens his mouth only to close it again abruptly.

What _does_ he have to offer? He's got nothing to his name. Heck, he doesn't even feel like he deserves to wear the clothes on his back. The suit had been a gift yes, but it had been a physical expression of Harry's fondness for him.

A gift for what he felt before their fight, before Eggsy lashed out against him in the most hurtful manner he could have thought of at the time.

Not that he thinks Hades has any care for money or material possessions. And the last thing he wants is to risk insulting Hades for not making an offer of equal value to what he is asking for.

It all comes down to what Harry’s life is worth to Eggsy. But when the answer to that question is _everything_ , it doesn’t really make it any easier.

In battle, Eggsy wouldn’t have hesitated risking his own life to protect Harry’s.

But this is not battle. And Harry is already dead.

Swapping places now would be the coward’s way out.

It doesn’t matter how Harry felt about him at the end. Eggsy knows that he would have never wanted him to discard his life so carelessly.

And Eggsy doesn’t wish to die anyway. As much as he loves Harry and will always feel his loss, he still got a long road to travel before he comes to the Underworld to stay.

Suddenly, he knows exactly what he has to offer.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting the words come to him on their own.

He closes his eyes and _sings_.

Later, he’ll be hard-pressed to remember what exactly he sang. In fact, he won’t even remember the melody. But that’s okay.

The song won't be _his_ anymore. It will be _Hades_ ’.

He cannot offer his life in exchange. _Won’t_.

But his story? That he can do.

It’s not much, but it’s who he is. In a way, it’s _him_.

His memories, his experiences, his feelings.

And as he sings, he realises just how much of an impact Harry has had on his life already. How he colours his life, how he weights on his words and his actions.

 _Fuck_ , he misses him so much. All that he’s been to him. All that _could_ have been between them.

However, as he sings and he also remembers how Harry’s presence felt like to him, he comes to another realisation. Sure, he wants Harry _back_. But even if he _does_ sway Hades in his favor only to find out that their fight have left an unbridgeable chasm between him and Harry, it’ll still have been worth it.

There is no denying he wants Harry back for purely selfish reasons. But knowing he’ll be alive will be enough. Harry won’t owe him anything.

Not when Eggsy owes him the world and more for who he's become today.

A man who can stand for himself and the ones he loves. A man he can be proud of.

Most of it was Eggsy’s doing of course. But Harry has been the push he had needed at the time to fulfil his potential.

His song comes to a conclusion and it’s only then that he opens his eyes again. At his back, Hermes feels just like Harry did that fateful day when they stood in front of the mirror and he called Eggsy ‘full of surprises’.

Except it cannot be Hermes. Not when the god has come to stand at his side while he was singing.

The only reason he doesn’t turn around to see if there is anything at all behind him is because he is caught once more under Hades’ fondly proud gaze.

But it’s not his voice that breaks the silence this time.

"Oh my poor child.” Persephone’s voice is soft, her eyes shining with a sad kind of amusement. “Here he is, heeding your call and yet, you think you have no claim on his soul."

He stares at her, refusing to believe what she is implying. If it’s not the truth, if he’s simply being fucked with, he doesn’t think he would ever recover from having his hopes shattered in such a cruel way.

He’s thankful for the distraction Hades offers when he finally speaks again.

“I accept your offer. A song that summons a soul, even if it’s only one in particular, is a rare and precious gift.” Hermes beside him clasp his arm and even without a word exchanged, Eggsy knows that his god is elated for him. “I will let you leave with your fallen warrior. But there are rules that governs the Underworld, just like there are rules that governs the mortal realm. I’m afraid a sacrifice on your part will be necessary.”

Eggsy’s blood runs cold.

He cannot begin to imagine what a sacrifice for the god of the dead would entail. _Doesn’t_ want to imagine.

Then his blood _boils_.

Hades hadn’t mentioned anything about a sacrifice before! How is this fair in any way? It just proves what Eggsy has always believed, that gods are just as bad as humans. Worse even, with their millenia of practice fucking everyone else over.

He opens his mouth, but Hades doesn't give him a chance to speak. Which is probably for the best considering what he tells him next. Eggsy really needs to learn getting his anger under control, especially when he doesn’t have all the facts.

“You may lead your fallen warrior out of the Underworld. However, as you do so, you cannot look at him. Not even once. You’ll have to trust that he is following you until you both return to the land of the living.”

“Oh.” He says it mostly because he still has his mouth open, the rant he had had on the tip of his tongue completely forgotten. “Oh, okay, yeah sure. I can do that.”

“For your sake and his, I hope that you can. This will be your only chance. Were you to turn around too soon, our contract would be voided and I would take back what is rightfully mine without hesitation.”

Eggsy nods at the warning. He’s not foolish enough to think it will be easy, but it’s not an impossible task either. He can do it.

For Harry, he would do so much more.

“Go now mortal. You have no place among the dead. Yet."

This time, Eggsy bows down, both in respect and in gratitude.

When he straightens up, there’s no trace of any throne, no trace of a god or even a fox. Just a road that vanishes into the shadows.

He nearly turns around to make sure he really is alone, but catches himself just in time.

He _isn’t_ alone. Harry is with him.

Harry is with him and he’s depending on him to get his life back.

He’s not fucking it up, not when he hasn’t even tried yet.

And so, he starts walking.

At first, it’s not so bad. He can only see a couple of feet in front of him despite the torches hanging on the walls, but the ground is pretty even despite the upward slope of it. He would think it’s man-made but he doubts Hades would let mortals mess with his domain. It’s probably as close to natural as anything that has been touched by a god can be.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long before the wonder of having been in the presence of gods fades and he’s left with the boredom of walking on a path that seems relatively unchanging.

There’s nothing to see and nothing to hear except for the rhythmic sound of his own footsteps.

It takes him longer than it should have to realise that there is something _wrong_ about that. He’s supposed to be a bloody spy. He’s supposed to _notice_ these things without any trouble.

He freaks out for a moment, long enough that he stops walking. Now, he can only hear his own breathing and the wild beat of his heart in his ears. It does nothing to reassure him.

What if the reason he can only hear himself is because Harry isn’t following? But no, that would make _no sense_. Why wouldn’t he be following? He wouldn't actually want to stay dead, would he?

Or maybe he wasn’t there at all in the first place. Maybe he has been lied to.

But no. He can still… _feel_ Harry behind him. In fact, he’s never stopped feeling him ever since he’s sung for Hades.

What was it the god told him? He has to 'trust' that Harry is following?

If he could hear him right now, it wouldn’t be hard to believe. And if it was easy, Hades would never have called it a sacrifice. Mortals aren’t supposed to come back after they die. Of course this is going to be difficult.

It has to be the reason.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself before continuing on his way.

He needs to keep going, even if the silence is oppressing.

Even if doubts are plaguing him.

Without meaning to, just so he can escape his own thoughts for a while, he starts talking.

“I didn’t mean it. When I called you a freak. You’re not. Well, ok, yeah, the stuffed dog is a bit weird, you can’t deny that. But everyone’s a bit weird in some way. It takes more than that to make someone a freak.”

He winces, when his brain catches up with what he is saying. He hadn’t planned on talking about _that_ again, not yet. Maybe not ever.

But he’s said it now and there’s no taking it back.

Though, if he’s being entirely honest, he wouldn’t take it back anyway.

At the time, even when he was still angry and reeling, he had regretted calling Harry a freak as soon as he had said it. Apologizing won’t ever change the fact he’s said it, but it’s the least he can do.

“So yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just so… _angry_.” That’s no excuse, he knows it. He’s hid behind that for far too many years already. He’s not a child anymore. He’s accountable for the shite he says. “Crazy thing is, I wasn’t even angry at you! I was angry at _me_! And I think… I think you were angry at yourself too. But it’s easier to just lash out, so we just took it out on each other instead.”

At least, that’s what _Eggsy_ had done. It’s always been a defense mechanism that served him well on the estates. But it’s not something he’s ever been proud of. Even less so now.

He chuckles, but it’s a joyless and hollow sound. If he can’t be proud of himself, why would Harry be? Why would Harry be blaming himself for their fight when it’s Eggsy that has been such a fuck-up, like he always has been?

“Fuck. What do I know? Maybe you _were_ really angry at me. Wouldn’t blame you if you were. It’s past time I take responsibility for the shite I do, yeah?”

Harry doesn’t answer.

For the first time, it crosses his mind that he probably _can’t_. After all, it would kind of defeat the purpose of having to trust Harry to follow him without Eggsy looking back if Harry could just tell him he’s right there behind him all along.

The fact he can still feel him isn’t really comforting. Sure, Harry is still _there_ , but Eggsy doesn’t know the first thing as to what he might be thinking.

“Guess I’ll just have to wait until we’re back. If you still want to speak with me after this. Shite. I’m not really giving you any choice here, am I? Sorry about that.”

He’s not sure which scenario he hates the most. Harry not talking to him again or Eggsy basically forcing his presence and apologies on the man when Harry doesn’t want anything more to do with him.

Both hurts. For different reasons, but they hurt nonetheless. So much so that he feels slightly nauseous.

But try as he might, he can’t stop talking now. It’s like a dam has been broken and the words flow out of his mouth. Like they have nowhere else left to go but _out_.

“I’m not expecting anything in return by the way. You don’t owe me nothing. You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t have to stop being angry at me if you still are. I’m trying to be better, but that doesn’t excuse what I’ve done. Heck I probably deserve a lot worse than just you being angry at me.”

Saving the world doesn’t absolve him from all the shite he’s done before. Hell, one good action doesn’t negate a bad one. He could be the perfect gentleman until the day that he dies, but that still wouldn’t entitle him to anything.

The best he can wish for is to look in the mirror and meet eyes with a reflection he can be proud of. And he’s getting there.

All thanks to Harry.

“I really mean it when I say you don’t owe me. If anything, I owe _you_. I don’t think I’ve said it yet and I really should have. I know you said it was all to pay back my father and maybe it really was just that for you. But you still gave me a chance. And I never said thanks for that, did I?”

He doesn’t need an answer to know he’s right. And it’s a shame really.

“Well, I’m saying it now. Thank you Harry. Thank you for the chance. I did most of the work, but you had the hardest part, I think. Like I have now, trusting you’re really behind me. _Believing_. It’s hard to go on faith alone, but still, you believed I could do it. It’s more than anyone has done for me in a long time. So thank you.”

And because he can’t stand it anymore, he holds out a hand behind him.

Sure, he can’t look, but Hades didn’t say anything about touching, did he?

For a small eternity, nothing happens as Eggsy continue to walk forward.

Maybe Harry doesn’t want to hold his hand. Maybe he really _is_ still angry.

Or maybe, just like sound, touch is also beyond him at the moment.

Or worse, Harry has never been here and Eggsy has been talking to himself, mocked by gods he should have known better than to trust and when he turns ar-

When it comes, it feels lighter than a breeze, but it is _there_ nonetheless.

A hand, settling in his, intangible and yet very much _real_.

Maybe Eggsy is going mad.

It wouldn’t be so bad he thinks.

Not if he gets to pretend that Harry would hold his hand despite the anger he must still feel for Eggsy.

He wants to squeeze Harry’s hand, but he’s afraid the lightest pressure will make it vanish. So instead, he keeps walking.

The silence doesn’t feel so heavy now.

He starts seeing some light in the distance, different from the torches.

 _Warmer_.

A bit like dawn.

He nearly trips down the stairs, avoiding the fall only thanks to Harry steady hold on his hand. They still haven’t let go.

They come down the stairs and Eggsy can hear the sound of Harry’s oxfords behind him, but he doesn’t dare to turn around.

What if he _is_ mad?

Even when the light of the rising sun starts blinding him and he _knows_ they’ve left the Underworld, he still doesn’t turn.

What if Harry isn’t there?

A gentle tug on his arm finally makes him stop, but still he faces forward.

What if he’s only been holding onto a dream?

Fingers lace with his, the palm pressed against his so _warm_.

He’s shaking now. He doesn’t know how he can be standing up. He doesn’t think he can move anymore, not even if his life depended on it.

Luckily, it doesn’t.

He feels Harry coming around to stand in front of him. At some point, he must have closed his eyes. And he doesn’t remember how to open them.

“Oh, Eggsy. You didn’t have to go through this. Not for me.”

Indignation. That’s one way to do it.

He glares at Harry.

For maybe two full seconds.

Then he just stares and stares and _stares_ some more, drinking him in because Harry is _here_. Right in front of him.

 _Alive_.

“Well, you didn’t have to come. You could have stayed there.”

If he had dared thinking about what he would tell Harry if he ever had a chance to see him alive again, that wouldn’t be a the top of his list. In fact, it wouldn’t have made the list at all.

But he’s said it and just like everything else he said out there in the Underworld, there’s no taking it back.

Harry smiles and even if Eggsy is still a bit angry that Harry could think he wouldn’t have done everything in his power to get him back, he smiles back. He only has himself to blame after all. Harry doesn’t know what he means to him. Doesn’t know just how much Eggsy loves him.

“My dear boy,” Harry raises his free hand and gently, _reverently_ , cups Eggsy’s cheek, “there is no way I could have ignored you. Wherever you are, whenever you call for me, I’ll always come to you.”

He remembers Persephone’s words to him earlier and he wonders how she could have resisted calling him a blind fool.

Well, he decides then and there, no more of that.

“There is something else I need to tell you.”

It should be obvious by now, but maybe Harry had been just like him. So busy figuring out his own feeling that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

“I love you.”

They both say it at the same time, the words ending in a kiss light as butterfly wings.

Lost in each other, neither of them notices the fox curled up on a nearby tree stump. It keeps watch for a moment before stretching its small body with near palpable contentment and then leaves quietly. They clearly don’t need its help anymore.

 

  



End file.
